Pretty Please with Maple Syrup on Top
by LuNa6780
Summary: In the world of media, one godly man is too-sexy-for-his-damn-shirt: Gilbert Beilschmidt. Costar? Madeleine. Relationship? Oh; they hate each other. But when Gilbert's self-proclaimed awesomeness (idiocy) forces them to spend time together (the horror), Gilbert learns that there is more to Madeleine that meets the eye. Or if he should call her Madeleine at all… PruCan. AU.
1. The Color Red is an Abomination

There are many things that ticked Madeleine Williams off. For example, dirty floors. Honestly, who didn't hate dirty floors?

There were many other things.

Many, many, other things.

But there were predominantly three things that pissed her off.

One of them was the color red. A nice color, really, but it was so flashy. It didn't necessarily piss her off, but it made her give off an "I'd-rather-not-see-you-because-you're-a-damn-abomination" kind of vibe. …Maybe it did piss her off.

Another thing that ticked her off was attitude. Like, the "this-house-is-on-fire-because-I'm-fucking-hot" kind of attitude. And houses on fire were not a matter to be tampered with.

And yet another thing that irked her was being late. Whoa; not the kind of late associated with the menstrual cycle, because birth was a wonderful process and definitely not an abomination like the color red, but the _time_ kind of late.

Gilbert Beilschmidt was all three of those things.

No; he was most definitely not red, but his eyes were. As gorgeous as they were, they reminded Madeleine of fire. Houses on fire, to be particular.

Therefore, Gilbert Beilschmidt was an abomination. Well, according to her. According to over half of the female population, he was damn sexy.

Not that she disagreed about his looks, but the cons about him outweighed the pros.

Currently, Gilbert Beilschmidt was late for a meeting with their agency, Hetalia Corporations.

Oh, right; Gilbert and Madeleine were both famous actors for Hetalia Corporations. Gilbert had been in the business for forever, while Madeleine was a new actor who had risen to popularity only recently.

Acting meant money. Loads of it.

But there was always a catch.

Always, always a catch.

And that catch came in the form of Gilbert Beilschmidt.

No, girlies, he wasn't a great catch. I don't mean that kind of catch.

But the catch was that Gilbert and Madeleine were costars for a very popular series. _Costars_.

The horror.

No, no; it is much worse than you think.

Madeleine and Gilbert hated each other's guts.

So much that when they locked eyes with one another, someone who would walk through their eye contact— which can otherwise be described as the battlefield— would be electrocuted with the intensity of hate shooting from both people.

Seriously, Alfred tried it.

He's…out of business now. Just kidding; he was just sent to the hospital.

And never returned.

Another joke. Calm down; this isn't a horror story. Alfred only stayed in the hospital for a couple of days.

Which turned into weeks. Which turned into months. Which turned into years. Which turned into eternity.

Digressing aside, Madeleine and Gilbert truly hated each other. They would constantly try to bring each other down.

Since they were costars, they went to a shitload of interviews together.

Gilbert released an embarrassing secret about Madeleine on live television.

Madeleine retorted by tripping him on live television. And making him crash into a desk full of soda and cups of water. Don't forget the food.

After changing, Gilbert fired back at Madeleine by tripping her as well. While she was wearing a skirt. Free _Victoria's Secret_ advertising, anyone?

Madeleine eventually got back at Gilbert by_ accidentally_ mentioning to the tabloids about the whereabouts of Gilbert's hotel room. And, long story short, they managed to break in and take _loads_ of pictures while Gilbert was in the shower, using women's shampoo. _Garnier Fructis_ advertising, much?

So, back to reality, here Madeleine was, standing in the lobby of Hetalia Corporations, waiting for Gilbert. Not to mention that she was standing on a dirty floor.

So, kiddies, can anyone guess Madeleine's mood?

Yes. She was pissed.

It wouldn't be so bad if they just started the meeting without him. But no, they insisted that they wouldn't start until the most important person came.

_She was important too!_

And she swore that as soon as that _thing _came in, all hell would break loose. She would give him a thorough verbal beating and _make him apologize_. Crying, of course. Sadistic, much?

So when that brat finally came in, she smiled. No, smirked. No, grinned. A very, very sinister grin.

"Grin any wider and your jaw might come off," a voice breathed in her ear.

She didn't jump a foot in the air. Really.

Madeleine frowned. "Do you have any idea how _late_ it is, Gilbert Beilschmidt?" she hissed, facing him.

Those goddamn eyes tried feigning innocence. Keyword: _tried_.

"What are you talking about? The meeting hasn't started yet. I'm right on time." That bastard grinned cheekily.

Madeleine crossed her arms, but not before checking the time. "Yes, Gilbert, because meetings _totally _start at exactly _3:43_," she deadpanned.

Gilbert looked hurt as she insulted him. Yeah right.

"Frown any longer and it'll stay that way. But… It does actually make you look less ugly. But that's only because they'll be distracted by your horrendous teeth and lipstick choice," Gilbert stated in a singsong voice, shrugging comically.

Madeleine was about to speak when Gilbert interrupted her.

"Anyway," he started, "you're right; meetings _don't_ start at _3:43_. But you're also wrong, as always. Because meetings start when _I_ get here," he whispered haughtily.

Madeleine breathed deeply, counting to ten.

"I'm surprised you can count, Madeleine. A gold star for you."

Madeleine looked confused for a bit. "Gold star? I thought you were too poor to even look at one."

Gilbert frowned. His red eyes narrowed slightly.

"Watch out," Madeleine warned in a mocking manner, "if you frown any longer, it'll stay that way," she quoted.

Gilbert pouted. "You're so mean to me."

Madeleine pinched the bridge of her nose. "_Don't kill him… Don't kill him..._" she muttered continuously.

Gilbert opened his mouth to speak. Madeleine stopped him.

"Let's just go to the goddamn meeting, Beilschmidt." She began swearing under her breath as she started the long trek to the elevator.

"Didn't know you knew so many cuss words, _boss_," Gilbert mocked, following her.

"Fuck you," she swore. "_Don't kill him… Don't waste your knife on that idiot..."_ She began quicken her pace.

"What time?"

"Oh, _please_," she said, rolling her eyes as she climbed into the elevator. She jabbed at the buttons, attempting to close the door on him. "I'd rather fuck that tree over there." She pointed to the potted plant that rested randomly in the corner of the elevator.

Feliciano had said that it was a tomato plant, rambling something about not having any more space in his dressing room. For some reason, his dressing room had a kitchen in it, full of pasta.

"Owie," Gilbert whined as the elevator closed on his finger. As soon as the doors closed he stepped a bit too close to Madeleine for her liking. "That's kind of gross. I didn't know that you were into _that_ kind of stuff."

"_Just think about maple syrup…_"

"But that's okay, because I," he inched closer to her ear, " #$%^&*"

This elevator was much too slow. But that was okay. Because Madeleine, in turn, had enough time to—

"_I forgot my fucking knife!_"

"So you're into that kind of stuff too?"

Children, let us play a game where we guess who said which.

* * *

"Okay, let the meeting begin," Arthur spoke.

Madeleine plopped into her seat, which was miraculously _not_ next to Gilbert. Thank the high heavens for that.

For the meeting, the whole cast of _Half and Half_— the show that Madeleine and Gilbert were costarring in— had assembled. Honestly, Madeleine thought the plot was too cliché for her tastes. And who would name a show after a cream/milk/whatever? You didn't even know what to officially call it.

But the fans loved it. And fans brought views. Which brought money.

Hey; she might sound like a spoiled girl, but when it came to money Madeleine wasn't going to complain.

Ludwig, the most responsible of the cast, rose from his seat.

"Anyway," Ludwig began, "we're having a very important interview coming up tomorrow, as you all know. I trust that you will all answer efficiently," he looked to Feliciano, who waved overexcitedly at him, "and appropriately," he emphasized while looking to Lovino, then Gilbert.

Lovino was a saucy (ha; saucy, because he likes tomato sauce) boy. And his favorite word was most likely fuck. His role in the show was to be a kind hearted boy with a big heart who loved reading. Go figure.

"I don't appreciate that look you're giving me, potato bastard."

"I'm appalled, little brother," Gilbert spoke, "that you would not trust me in this. Oh, my poor heart," he put his hand to his heart as if it had been shot.

"Gilbert," Ludwig started, sighing, "your heart is on the left side."

"I-I knew that…" Gilbert said nervously. "Just testing to see if my little brother is doing well in chemistry."

"God, my brother is an idiot…"

"Expected from someone who has a potato for brains," Lovino grumbled.

"Fratello, that's not nice!" Feliciano exclaimed.

Gilbert grinned. "You know, if there's anyone you can't trust, it's Madeleine. She's into BDSM. The hardcore kind, because she said she would use Feli's tomato plant…"

All hell broke loose. Again.

And at that exact moment, Gilbert had decided to state that while Madeleine had excused herself to go to the lady's room.

"Who knows what she's doing in the bathroom right now," Gilbert mused.

"I can't blame 'er," Francis stated in his overly romantic French accent. "Sometimes you just feel urges." He winked at Arthur.

Francis Bonnefoy was an overly romantic Frenchie. With an accent. So of course he attracted all of the ladies. His character portrayed a boy working at a coffee shop aspiring to be a medical student. Coincidentally, his character's best friend was Arthur's character.

Arthur tried to be as gentlemanly as possible, but when it came to that damn American idiot, his personality would flip flop. His character was a poor emo boy who dealt drugs to earn money for college.

Just what kind of show was this?

"You what urge I feel, frog?" Arthur growled. "I feel the urge to kill you. Slowly."

"I tried," Alfred piped up, "but that thing just wouldn't die." He bit into his hamburger.

"When will you quit it with all of those hamburgers, twat?"

Alfred. Him and his hero complex… In the series, he was the typical American teenager (idiot).

Arthur tried. He tried real hard to decide who to choke first.

The meeting had turned to complete chaos because of Gilbert.

"Urges?" Yao had said, and then continued to mumble something about hormones. "Anyway, Gilbert, how would you know, aru? Are you and Madeleine having…_that_ kind of relationship?"

"Oh my," Antonio piped up, "how I wish I could be like that with Lovi…"

"Quit being a pedophile, tomato bastard."

"More ideas for my manga…" Kiku Honda muttered.

And at that time, Madeleine decided to walk back in. The room fell silent as they stared at her.

"Madeleine," Ivan Braginski said, breaking the silence. "Congratulations."

Madeleine looked at him oddly. "What are you talking about, Ivan?"

"You and Gilbert, da?"

The whole room nodded in unison. It was kind of creepy.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt," Madeleine fumed, "_what did you tell them this time?_"

Gilbert only snickered. "Just the truth."

Thirty minutes later, Ludwig adjourned the meeting. Slowly, people began to file out. Madeleine was first, anxious to go home and get away from that _thing_. Actually, _all_ of those things.

Gilbert was among the last to leave, joking around with Francis and Antonio before they left. Ludwig grabbed his older brother before he could leave.

"Gilbert, as you know, tomorrow's interview is very important," Ludwig repeated.

Gilbert sighed. "I know, I know. I won't do this that, or that, or this," he began to list all of the things he was banned from, "and I won't embarrass Madeleine. I promise this time."

"Good. But actually, I need you to do something else. Tomorrow they're going to ask questions. I don't care about any of them but one. I know we always give the same answers to this question, but this time, I need you to…" he whispered the rest in Gilbert's ear.

Gilbert's eyes widened.


	2. Senior Scissors, I Hate You

**Not my best chapter. Please try to bear with it until the end. But let's be honest; you're all probably going to, at one point or another, go like: holy shit. what. no.**

* * *

Damn it all.

She could no longer endure the snickers, or the odd looks, or the comments behind her back.

She didn't want to do it, really; she didn't.

But she couldn't take it anymore.

The scissors glinted menacingly, her pale hands detaining the ebony handle. The faint sound of the mechanism opening and closing resonated throughout the small room. But to her it sounded like someone had amplified the earsplitting creak of a door.

She stared once more at the blade, watching it shake in her hand. Did she really want to do this? Did she really want to sacrifice—

Yes; she did.

She could leave all the senselessness of this kind of world and step into a new world. A new world that didn't patronize her for looking so much like her brother. A world where people wouldn't punch her and then realize that Alfred didn't wear skirts.

A world where Gilbert wouldn't constantly poke fun at that _thing_. That…_atrocity_.

She would finally be rid of it all with one snip.

That's right.

Madeleine Williams was sick of all the shit she got from that stupid cowlick. It was like it somehow defied the law of physics, because it wouldn't go down no matter the amount of hairspray used.

Let us rewind.

Madeleine looked a lot like her brother Alfred. A whole lot. So people would mistake her for that idiot. Add on that fact that for some reason a bunch of people held grudges against him, and voila.

Every time someone wanted to settle some stupid matter with Alfred, they would always find Madeleine first. Always.

It was an insult to be mistaken for a boy. _Especially when that boy was Alfred_. Even more so, her hair was like a gazillion times longer than Alfred's. Seriously, people were just stupid these days.

Not to mention that Gilbert always mocked her about it.

But one day Madeleine came upon a revelation. When another goddamn idiot readied himself to punch her, she braced herself by covering her face for some reason. And with it she covered the cowlick. She must have done some weird voodoo shit, though, because how she managed to bring that thing down when she was covering only her face was beyond her.

It was a _miracle_. The guy walked away like he had been under some kind of trance.

And god did that _piss her off_.

Her cowlick did not, in any way, shape, form, or shit, even closely resemble Alfred's cowlick. She swore that his cowlick was an attention whore or something. Well, maybe there was—_not even_. _Not. Even_.

If Madeleine had known that it was the cowlick that had cursed her, she wouldn't have wasted her money on concealers and the likes to cover the bruises. And we all know how she liked her money.

So, Madeleine decided, she would finally get rid of that demon. That gravity-defying, scheming, little imp.

By gravity-defying, scheming, little imp, though, she didn't mean Gilbert. She already had plans on how to get rid of _that_ kind of demon. Now, if the law would be kind enough to make homicide legal…

All she had to do was take the scissors in her hand and snip. Soon it would all be over.

She was so close to that parallel world. Just a few more centimeters and—

Alfred suddenly barged into the room. He took notice of Madeleine and waved.

"_Alfred!_" Madeleine was fuming. "Don't you know the meaning of _knock_?"

Alfred looked puzzled. "Knock? Well, I do, but it's kind of inappropriate. Knock is when you take a girl and have—"

"_Don't even finish that sentence!_"

"But you asked…"

Madeleine sighed. "You're acting like it's completely _normal_ to barge into the washroom while someone is in there and wave. And why do you have food with you?"

"Haven't you heard of public bathrooms? And what's a washroom?" So he waves in public bathrooms. Strange child.

Madeleine was this close to smacking the boy for good measures. "Just be a good boy and answer the question, Alfred. Why do you have food with you? In a restroom?"

Alfred crossed his arms. "I'm sorry, mommy. I didn't know it was illegal," he mocked, mimicking a kindergartener's verbal intonation. He took notice of the scissors Madeleine was gripping tightly. "And why do you have scissors with you?"

"Alfred, it's none of your business." Well, actually, it really was his business since Alfred was at fault for having so many people who wanted to beat him to a pulp (wasn't he the hero?) but Madeleine kept silent.

Until she realized something.

This probably looked a lot like…

Mother. Fucking. Maple. Of all. Pancakes.

"Don't tell me…" Alfred said in a hush tone.

"This isn't what it looks like, Alfred!" Madeleine tried to convince. She held her hands in surrender, attempting to calm him down, but the scissors also conveniently glinted in her hands. Well. She was done trying.

She glared at the scissors. _You're an abomination_, she shot mentally at it. It replied with an _"At least I'm not talking to a pair of scissors."_

Alfred's shocked voice brought her back to reality. "That's…that's what they all say…"

Three… Two… One.

"_Don't do it, Maddie!"_ Alfred wailed. "_Please don't commit suicide!_"

"Alfred…" Madeleine groaned.

"_I know you're upset, but there are other ways to deal with this!_"

"Alfred, I'm not…"

"Okay, Maddie? Let's just calm down for a second. Take a deep breath, and…and…"Alfred's voice began to crack. "_Don't do it!_" he exclaimed, and for some reason decided to cling onto Madeleine like she was a hamburger.

Madeleine was not amused. "I told you; I'm not—"

Alfred had begun to hyperventilate. "There are ways to cure your suicidal thoughts. Treatment of suicidal thoughts and behavior depends on your specific situation, including your level of suicide risk and what underlying problems may be causing your suicidal thoughts or behavior."

"What the fuck, Alfred?"

"I read it once on this article…"

"You…I don't..." There was something wrong with this boy. There really was. "Just get out, Alfred. You know I'm not stupid enough to kill myself."

"But, but…" Alfred began to adorn those irresistible puppy dog eyes. Madeleine swore she would rip them out after killing Gilbert. Sensing her distress, Alfred just _had_ to ask her, "Geez, Maddie. You're really stressed out these days. Has all this sexual tension between you and Gilbert gotten to you?"

Madeleine blushed, her mouth gaping open. She quickly regained her senses. "Alfred. Jones. Get the fuck. Out of. The bathroom. Before I kill you."

Alfred held his hands up in surrender. "Fine, fine," he said, whirling around to face the exit. "But in my opinion…"

He paused, hesitating slightly. "You should just have sex with him already."

"You know, before you kill someone," Alfred added as an afterthought.

Madeleine was speechless. Her brain had blanked out, rendering her paralyzed. Her cheeks glowed, the warm feeling beginning to plague her entire expression. Who was she— Rudolph?

Alfred turned around, fiddling with a pair of scissors in his hands. Strange; Madeleine had a pair just like them.

Wait.

"…Thanks for the scissors, damsel in distress!" And then Alfred did the wisest thing he had ever done in his life: sprinting out of the house. He quickly whipped out his phone, dialing a number as he descended the stairway.

"Hey Artie, I kind of need a favor. Listen, I need to come over for a bit."

"_Alfred, come back here!_"

"…_Why not_?" Alfred whined into the device as he grabbed his car keys. "Oh, that? That's just Maddie. So I can come over, right?"

Madeleine was so close. So close to castrating that brat with a spoon.

"It's a life or death situation, Artie! And the hero can't die! Don't start locking your door… Actually, I still have the keys I took from your wallet, so lock away. That would make my stay _even more fun_."

"Come back here, _Alfred_, and spend some _quality time_ with your sibling…."

"Okay, okay! I kind of told Madeleine to have sex with Gilbert, and now she's running around with a spoon, after me! Rudolph is after me, and it's bat-shit scary. So I can come over, right?" He quickly rushed into his car. "Well, then, it's opposite day, so I guess that means I _can_ come over! KaythanksIloveyabye!"

Alfred had left. And somehow he had managed to take all of the scissors, knives, and any sharp objects with him. Including the chainsaw.

"_Alfred Fucking Jones_!" How ironic. According to Alfred, the_ F_ in his middle name really did stand for fuck.

* * *

Madeleine arrived at Hetalia Corporations the next day, exhausted. At least Alfred had the nerve to stay with Arthur for the time being.

Sometimes she really hated living with her brother.

Yao noticed her stepping out of her car and gave her a cheerful greeting. Madeleine replied with a forced smile, thanking him for his kind words.

Yao looked worried. "Has your relationship reached a fork in the road, aru?" he innocently asked.

Madeleine froze, and Yao looked at her expectantly. "Relationship with who?" she asked, her smile endearing, though her eyes portrayed a different emotion…and message. _Try your luck, boy_, her eyes said, _and you're absolutely, wonderfully, fucked._

"Your relationship with…with Alfred!" Yao hurriedly squeaked. "You live with him, correct? So that must mean why you're so tired." Yao was a very smart boy.

Madeleine continued walking, satisfied with his words. Yao kept a good distance behind her, and soon they were in the lobby.

Gilbert took notice of Madeleine and came up to her, grinning. Yao watched them from his spot in the room.

_Those two are damn idiots, aru_, he thought. The sexual tension between those two was overwhelming.

"Did it hurt when they kicked you out of hell?" Gilbert asked innocently.

Madeleine thought for a bit. "Did it hurt when they kicked you out of planet rejection?"

Yao shook his head. _They should just have sex already_, he thought. Not that he was going to tell them anytime soon, though. He briskly left for the elevator. As great as those two were, Yao _did not _want to be in an elevator with both of them.

Alfred tried it. And we all know what happened to him the last time he got in between the pair.

They all went their separate ways to prepare for the interview, each of them having their own dressing room.

Felix, Madeleine's personal dresser, had already arrived, his make-up set in tow.

"Ready to look sexier than usual?"

Madeleine chose not to respond. Felix motioned for her to sit down, swiftly setting his desired tools on the table.

He sighed as Madeleine pulled off her wig. "You know," Felix spoke, "you can't keep up that charade forever. Eventually someone is going to find out."

"…Alfred knows…" Madeleine replied in a hushed tone.

"That's not what I meant."

Madeleine Williams… well, to be blunt; Madeleine Williams was nothing but a lie. A complete bullshit of a mere pseudonym.

"I have my reasons."

"But are they good enough to save you from the truth?"

Madeleine was silent.

The…truth…? Madeleine wasn't even sure if she knew the whole truth anymore.

Felix continued. "They're not, and you know that damn well."

"…You've gotten a lot wiser since high school."

Madeleine Williams didn't exist. The only person that existed was Matthew Williams.

Madeleine sighed. "You don't understand, Felix."

Felix paused. "You shouldn't say that when you don't understand yourself."

Matthew Williams. No one knew who that was. Matthew Williams was invisible to the world.

"I guess you're right…" Madeleine whispered.

"I'm not right; you're wrong."

_All of my life…_Madeleine, no, Matthew thought, _I've been invisible. Not one person would remember me. And the only way out of this prison is…_

"You're finished," Madeleine stated. She stared at herself in the mirror, absorbing the sight of her golden hair gathered in an elegant bun. Something began to blur her vision, and she wondered if the mirror was sick of her, too. _Unrecognizable, as always_.

"Don't cry," Felix comforted, "or you'll mess up your eye makeup."

_I found the key to the lock, and yet…_

"You're really bad at comforting people."

_I had to find a way to make money. Those constant job interviews…going unnoticed…_

"I'm hungry," Felix complained as he waited for Madeleine to finish changing. "Hurry up so I can go to lunch with Toris."

_I was never noticed… And that hurt more than starving…_

"Shut up or I'll end up locking you in here," Madeleine threatened.

_Locked in an invisible prison…It's ironic, really._

* * *

The cast of _Half and Half_ quickly made their way down the driveway to where their limos were waiting.

Unfortunately, since Madeleine and Gilbert were the main characters of the production, Madeleine was forced against her own will to share a limo with Gilbert. _It absolutely lifted Madeleine's spirits when she discovered that the drive would be an hour!_

…And then brought it down to hell.

"Don't be so pouty, Madeleine. Other girls would kill to be in your place," Gilbert said as they locked Madeleine and him in the limo. "And didn't I tell you about what would happen if you frowned?"

"I swear, Gilbert, if you trip me again on live television, I am _not_ afraid to tell people where you actually live this time. And about your new brand of _Suave_ shampoo. Or was it _Aussie _shampoo this time?"

Gilbert actually looked shocked. "God dammit, I fucking knew that was you, Madeleine."

"Apparently not, genius, since youjust realized right now."

Ignoring that last comment, Gilbert began to poke around at the strange mechanics in the limousine. "Hey, look, a hot tub." He grinned at Madeleine.

"Don't even think about it, Gilbert." Yes; she definitely regretted not closing the door on Gilbert's tie.

Gilbert commenced with his signature pout, childishly crossing his arms. "Not awesome, Madeleine." He noticed the pair of scissors lying on the small table. "Hey, Alfred said something about keeping you away from scissors. What was that about?"

Madeleine found that she didn't even have the energy to reply. "You would know if you lived with him, Gilbert. Don't even try asking." That was effective in shutting Gilbert up.

After about five minutes of wonderful silence, Gilbert decided he was bored. And of course, he had to exclaim it to the world.

"Ma-de-leine," he groaned, "I'm so fucking bored. Quit being all serious and do something about it."

Madeleine could think of a few ways to get rid of his boredom. "Well, there is one way, but it's illegal, and it involves a knife. Oh, look. A pair of scissors. Those work too, you know."

Gilbert grinned. That girl had set up the perfect opportunity. "Oh, no, Madeleine. We can't do _that _right before an interview. You'll mess up our clothes. It would be awesome to do it _afterwards_, though."

Gilbert felt triumphant as he saw an apparent blush on the girl's face.

"I…" Madeleine spoke up, her head low. She shyly twiddled with her thumbs. "I wouldn't mind that, you know…" she said quietly.

An odd sensation made its way to Gilbert's chest. His ruby eyes widened in surprise, cheeks reddening for some strange reason.

"I would do anything with you, really…"

Gilbert felt like his heart was going to _fucking break his ribs_. He found himself unable to form a distinguishable reply.

"If you ended up dead in the end."

Well, shit.

* * *

Madeleine waved to the crowd as she walked backstage, heading straight for the refreshments table. She thanked the off-stage worker who handed her a plastic cup of water, gulping it down to calm her beating heart.

The first portion of the show would include her and Gilbert. Yay. Afterwards the show would alternate between exploiting Arthur (and his sexy-ass accent), Francis, and Alfred, then the Vargas brothers and Antonio (the sensitive hotties of the show), and then the rest of the cast.

This was the cast's first interview with a more popular and widely known show, and would subsequently determine the rise and fall of the number of viewers for _Half and Half_.

Elizaveta Héderváry was the host for this show. She had the reputation of being merciless towards Gilbert since they apparently knew each other from high school. Madeleine decided she liked Elizaveta already.

Elizaveta greeted her warmly, smiling. "I'm honored to be on your show," Madeleine complimented.

"No; thank you for giving me a chance to beat Gilbert up like old times." Elizaveta winked. She gladly shook Madeleine's hand, her eyes widening slightly. "Oh my…" she whispered.

"Is something wrong?"

Elizaveta was quick to deny her sudden reaction. "No, your hand is soft… That's all." She smoothed down her emerald pencil skirt hastily. "Enjoy the pastries and the publicity," she said, going off to meet the rest of the cast.

The blur of the crowd slightly fazed Madeleine as she walked to her designated loveseat. She couldn't deny that her clammy palms made it a bit hard to settle down into the peach seat. Gilbert dropped in not too long after, sitting a bit too close to Madeleine for her liking.

"Hey…" Gilbert looked at her, serious. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "This means just go with it and shut up, okay?"

Madeleine was afraid that Gilbert would be able to hear her hammering heart. "Gilbert, what are you talking about?"

Gilbert squeezed her hand before letting go of it. "Just remember that." His ruby eyes were incomprehensible as they bore into Madeleine's violet eyes.

The pair stayed like that for what seemed like eternity before the roar of the crowd snapped them out of their trance. Elizaveta had walked onto stage, holding up three fingers, then two, then one. She smiled at the pair, flashing them a thumbs-up.

The introductions ran past Madeleine that she hardly remembered what she answered. Suddenly they were doing questions and answers. Madeleine selected a young girl from the crowd for the first question.

"Are you and Gilbert in some sort of relationship? Because you guys are seriously adorable together." Anticipation loomed over the crowd as they awaited her answer.

Madeleine opened her mouth to reply when Gilbert suddenly took her hand and _squeezed the hell_ out of it. She quickly turned to him, wincing in the process.

Gilbert adorned a shocked expression, biting his lip. He squeezed Madeleine's hand with more force, shifting his eyes to her for a split second.

"Was it…obvious?"

* * *

**Sometimes I wonder if I was on crack writing this story.**

**Hear ye, hear ye: yes, Madeleine is not a female. Please try to read this story until the end, though. It will all make sense. **

**And in my defense, I put PruCan. Not Prufem!Can. Read the summary once more.**

**Just saying.**

**P.S. I'm sorry if I upset or mind fucked you guys. I don't even. I don't even.**


	3. The Ugly Duckling was a Cat

"Was it…obvious?"

Obvious. _Obvious? _Madeleine certainly did not remember ever dating that prick. She fidgeted in her seat ever so slightly, hoping for Gilbert to take notice of her confused disposition. Gilbert only responded by gripping her hand tighter. The duo locked eyes for a split second before torrents of gossips clawed at their ears.

"_What_?" one girl demanded, "Gilbert was supposed to be _my_ future husband." Would anyone like to guess what level of stalker she is?

"They're so damn adorable together!"

"How could he go for a girl like her? She's as flat as a board…"

"Oh my god, she's totes lucky!"

Elizaveta herself was beaming, chuckling to herself. The crowd quieted down as she spoke up. "So, you guys are a couple inside _and_ outside of the productions. Tell me, Madeleine, how do you deal with someone like him?" Madeleine could have sworn that Elizaveta had put an emphasis on _guys_.

All eyes turned to Madeleine. Gilbert beckoned for her to answer by releasing the crushing grip from her hand.

Well, Madeleine never felt so screwed in her life. And not the wrong kind of screwed, mind you. "I…" _Just go with it_, Madeleine reviewed mentally,_ just act like you expected whatever the hell is going on_. She allowed for herself to undergo a complete change in character, a hint of smirking gracing her cardinal lips.

"Actually, I don't really need to deal with him and his PMS-ing phases." She covered her mouth in shock as everyone laughed. "Oh my, did I say that out loud? I just let the squirt bottle do all the work whenever he blurts out something inappropriate."

The crowd roared with laughter as Gilbert pouted. "And to this day she still treats me like I'm the ugly duckling out of the bunch."

Elizaveta smiled fondly at the two. "Squirt bottles are for cats, dear," she said to Gilbert. She turned to the camera. "Why don't we go on commercial break while I teach Gilbert the difference between ugly ducklings and cats? We'll have more on this lovely couple and their upcoming episodes they'll be filming when we get back."

Madeleine dragged Gilbert backstage as soon as the cameras stopped filming. "Gilbert sweetie," she stated calmly as some workers watched her manhandling of Gilbert in amazement, "would you please tell me _what the hell_ is going on?"

Gilbert only shrugged her panic off. "Relax. We're not actually dating. Ludwig told me to do it for the publicity," he stated. A sly grin made its way to his face. "You should feel honored, you know, because you're dating me." _Cocky boy._

"Honored? Oh, sure; I'm honored to be fake dating a guy who doesn't know the difference between ducks and cats. Why didn't you tell me that you were going to do it?" She glared accusingly at him. Well played, Madeleine, well played.

"You know, Madeleine your eyes aren't violet. They're _violent_," Gilbert joked. He put his hands up in surrender. "All right, all right. I must have forgotten to tell you…" He attempted to feign innocence, even going so far as to twiddle with his thumbs. He wasn't an actor for nothing, I suppose.

"You—"

They broke eye contact when someone yelled out that they had one minute left until the show started up again. Gilbert turned around, readying himself to walk back onstage. A heavy silence endowed the pair.

"I knew you would refuse." The serious tone of Gilbert's voice startled Madeleine, who could only stare as he walked back onstage. "I was testing you," he continued, "to see if you deserved the title of an actress." He disappeared in the bustle of the backstage crew.

"But I don't," Madeleine whispered, "I don't deserve the title of an actress."

"Reputation is an idle and most false imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without deserving," Elizaveta recited behind her. Though she was around Madeleine's age, her eyes offered breathtaking wisdom. "William Shakespeare," she credited as Madeleine whirled around. "It's my favorite quote. How has your day been?"

"It's been wonderful," said Madeleine. Her words were hollow, only the slightest drop of sincerity laced through her reply.

Elizaveta sighed in sympathy. "Don't fool yourself trying to fool others."

Madeleine's eyes could only widen. She looked down, suddenly finding the conversation awkward. "You know, then."

"I won't tell anyone."

"Thank you," Madeleine breathed, watching Elizaveta waltz back onstage.

Elizaveta paused. "Don't mind Gilbert. He's always been like that. I can tell that he really does care for you."

"But we hate each other."

"They hate only because they love." She laughed as Madeleine blushed.

* * *

The interview had been a complete success, especially Gilbert and Madeleine's portion of the show. There were a few slip-ups, like Natalya frightening half of the female viewers with her deadly glare, but Antonio managed to keep Lovino's haughty attitude to a minimum. The limousine ride back for Alfred, Francis, and Arthur, however, was nothing above awkward.

"I cannot believe you," Arthur grumbled. He loosened his red tie, debating whether or not he should strangle Alfred with it.

"Aw, come on, Artie, it wasn't a big deal, just a minor slip. You know you still love me." Alfred winked. He slid further down the seat, reaching over Arthur to retrieve a wine glass to pour champagne into.

Arthur looked confused. "Love you? Has hell already frozen over?" He grabbed the glass of champagne from Alfred before the latter could indulge in it. "Minor slip? Alfred, you _actually_ slipped. _Onto me_." He poured the glass of champagne back into the bottle, corking it and holding it out of Alfred's reach.

"My champagne…" Alfred reached for the bottle of alcohol, pouting as Arthur made it impossible to attain. "Don't deny that you didn't like it, Artie. Half the girls were screaming their heads off." He tried his luck again to get the bottle.

Arthur blushed, muttering twat. They wrestled for the bottle of champagne and somehow ended up in the same situation as earlier in the interview, with Alfred pinning Arthur to the seat in a quite compromising position that very much gave off an intimate vibe.

"For god's sake," Francis complained, "though I do like making amour, I do not enjoy _watching_ amour." He flipped his hair overdramatically. "Please keep your hormones down until the limousine ride is over."

Alfred and Arthur swiftly sat up, their faces flushed, and the bottle of champagne long forgotten. They refused to make eye contact with one another.

"And now there is sexual tension in the air. Quite surprising for Arthur, the womaniz—" Francis was forced to stop, you know, considering the fact that Alfred had socked him in the stomach. "Mon dieu," Francis managed to cough out. "You do not have to take your sexual frustrations out on me—"

"—that way," he added as an afterthought. "I would quite enjoy the other way." He winked at Alfred before Arthur promptly punched him in the gut. "Dieu, you two punch hard," Francis whimpered, cradling his injured abdomen.

"You two react so violently when jealous," Francis stated. He saw Arthur and Alfred glaring at him dangerously. "I said the wrong thing again, didn't I?"

Yes Francis, you did. Adieu, my friend.

* * *

Alfred was stepping out of the limousine when he saw Madeleine.

"Madeleine," Alfred called out to his sibling in the parking lot, "since when were you guys dating?" He quickly caught up to her. When Madeleine's response was quickening her pace, he kept talking. "Didn't I tell you to have a relationship with no strings attached—"

"D-don't," Madeleine said, her teeth chattering, "don't even, Alfred."

"Whoa. Hey, why are you soaked?"

Indeed, Madeleine was soaked to the bone. Madeleine only shook her head, cradling herself with her arms in an attempt for warmth. It was then that Alfred noticed Gilbert trailing behind them.

"What happened?" Alfred asked.

Gilbert shrugged, grinning. "There was a hot tub in our limo. I told her not to go in, but she did."

Madeleine quickly turned around. "That's complete bullsh—"

"So when did you guys start dating?" Alfred cut in; oblivious that Gilbert was spewing nonsense.

"Well," Gilbert said, "when she finally found the balls to ask me out—"

Madeleine quickly turned back around, effectively slapping Gilbert with her soaked hair in the process, thus shutting him up. "Shut up, Gilbert," she ordered in a singsong voice.

Alfred looked at Gilbert in amazement as he shut up. "Dude, she's got you whipped."

Ludwig, already at the entrance, spotted them and waved them over. His eyebrows raised in question as he took notice of Madeleine's current state. He quickly ordered an assistant to grab some towels. The assistant quickly ran back, handing a large towel to Madeleine as she stepped into the building.

"Did it have something to do with Gilbert?" Ludwig asked.

Madeleine nodded, shivering. Ludwig shook his head, muttering something in German.

"Anyway, Gilbert, Madeleine, the producers wanted me to show you something." He began to walk in the opposite direction towards one of the meeting rooms. Madeleine and Gilbert took this as a signal to follow him. By then, Alfred had gone off to bug Arthur.

In the meeting room, Gilbert watched as Ludwig pulled out a laptop and turned it on.

"I think you need to see this."

Ludwig opened the _Internet Explorer_, quickly making two tabs for the websites _Twitter_ and _Facebook_. Ludwig quickly typed in Gilbert Beilschmidt on _Twitter_, and pointed to the messages.

((read from top comment down))

**MileyCyrusGurly **How could MY Gilbert be dating that fake whore?

_Less than 5 seconds ago from web_

**Iwntmypuppies **IKR :((( Damn her. I bet that Madeleine forced him to like go out with her. Bithc.

_Less than 5 seconds ago from web_

**MileyCyrusGurly **Ur nickname's ridiculous.

_Less than 3 seconds ago from web_

**Iwantmypuppies** You shouldn't be talking.

_Less than 2 seconds ago from web_

**Baileen** WHYY IS GILBERT DATING THAT BITCH? I DON'T BELIEVE IT

_Less than 1 second ago from web_

**Roygbiv **I know I know. I bet she's not dating him

_Less than 1 second ago from web_

**Baileen** If she breaks Gilbert's heart I'm gonna kill herr grrr

_Less than 1 second ago from web_

**Itsbritneybitch** I bet you theyre not dating. Gilbert's, like, always denied to liking her

_Less than 1 second ago from web_

**Iceee **Ya me too

_Less than 1 second ago from web_

**Popcorn**_ Methinks they're faking it. Don't worry soon they'll break up

_Less than 1 second ago from web_

**Lalaloopsy** Ya. GILBERTTT IS MAH MATCH FROM HEAVEN SO ITS OBS THAT HES NOT DATNIG HRE

_Less than 1 second ago from web_

**Landofthehotttiess** GILBERT WOULDN'T DATE A BITCH WHO CAN'T SPELL. HE'S MINE!1111!1

_Less than 1 second ago from web_

**Lalaloopsy** NO HSE MINE. MINEMINEMINEMINE THE FORTUNE LADY TELLER SAID OS

_Less than 1 second ago from web_

**Lalaloopsy **MINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINE MINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINE MINEMINEMIN

_Less than 1 second ago from web_

**Santahookerbby **THEY'RE NOT DATING

_Less than 1 second ago from web_

Gilbert grinned. "Told you, Madeleine. You're hella lucky. All these girls are fighting over me."

Ludwig clicked on the _Facebook _tab. The comments were even worse, what; with everyone denying that they were dating. And Madeleine being insulted every other comment.

"It's hard for me to tell you this, considering your current relationship," Ludwig stated, "but the producers wanted me to tell that you have to make them believe that you're dating." Madeleine could only sputter chopped up syllables.

"It's obvious—" _obvious_, oh, how she _hated_ that word now "—that this pains you. However, it's quite safe to say that you may be in danger, Madeleine. Gilbert's fans are quite aggressive, and to find out that you two are not really in a relationship could end in disaster," Ludwig explained.

Gilbert smirked. He looped his arm around Madeleine. "So I guess that that means we'll be spending more time with each other, _boss_."

Oh; that blush on Madeleine's cheeks? Yeah; that was only out of anger. Not anything else.

* * *

Madeleine trudged into her dressing room and unceremoniously pulled off her wig, releasing a heavy sigh. She stared at the golden tresses that splayed elegantly from the net, which was quite close to her own hair color. She settled into her vanity stool.

"For years I've been invisible to this world," she whispered sadly, "and my consolation prize is a damn wig. What. The. Fuck."

Madeleine laughed bitterly. "If the world knew I was a drag queen..." She drifted off.

She thought about everything she'd worked for up until this point. The sacrifices, realizations, people she'd met...

"It would all go to hell."

And Madeleine herself would become an abomination along with it.

* * *

Gilbert Beilschmidt was a reasonable man. He might be a bit too high up on his (Prussian) horse, yes, but he was a good person. Wasn't he?

There wasn't a single trace of conceitedness in his blood. Not that he knew of, anyway. And he did good deeds now and then. Like saving that kitty from the top of the tree. He may have been scratched in the face, and when the media found him and ran to surround him the little girl waiting for her kitty may have been trampled, yes, but he saved the little kitty brat. Saving was a good deed. And it's not like the little girl asked Gilbert to save her from the stampede of people.

So what if the world thought of him as fucking sexy and drooled at the sight of him? That didn't mean he thought he was sexy. Although, if he had to comment about his looks, he wasn't going to complain.

All those women loved him. Fought over him. Worshipped him. It was further proved by those Facebook posts. Gilbert had also learned that girls with _Miley _in their username are not friendly.

Therefore Gilbert Beilschmidt hadn't the slightest clue as to why Madeleine Williams hated him. Or held disdain for him. Anyway, he was not in her favor, especially when he tried to use a cheesy pick up line to lighten the mood when he first met her.

"If I could rearrange the alphabet, I would put U and I together," he had said. Madeleine only gave him an odd look, and then smiled sweetly.

"Really?" she had said. Gilbert had prepared to answer with a flirtatious tone before Madeleine continued. "Because I'd put F and U together."

That took Gilbert aback, he admitted. He only let out his signature grin. "Well, I wasn't really expecting you to be straightforward about that, but anytime is good for me."

"Too bad; N and O are already together," Madeleine had retorted, smirking.

Her hate for him was as abundant as manna from heaven. And now, due to some odd twist of fate, they were dating. Or fake dating. Either way they had to act all buddy-buddy now.

But, hey, Gilbert wasn't going to complain. Madeleine was actually kind of cute, anyway. And he liked how she didn't act like a total lovestruck girl. No offence, but those girls were batshit scary.

N-not that he liked her in that sort of way, but if he had to choose between her and a bunch of really hot fangirls, it would most likely be Madeleine. Th-that was only because he didn't want to get mauled by an army of teenagers.

Gilbert wondered why his cheeks felt like they were on fire. Was he sick?

No...no, oddly enough, he wasn't.

Back to the original task at hand, he was searching for Madeleine. Huh; whenever he thought of her name that same feeling flared in his cheeks.

... ... ...

_Oh well. _

Sometimes Gilbert really needed to quit being a bastard. Or being just plain stupid. Words straight from the mouth of Lovino.

* * *

Madeleine was having quite a day, to say the least. Why did she have to date Gilbert? Not that he was some ugly bastard, but Gilbert was a guy. And she, no, he, was a guy, too. To think about it was a bit awkward. And the only reason she was wearing that wig was because...

Madeleine heard an obnoxious knock on her door. Followed by that oh, so distinct voice.

Speak of the devil. Literally. Get it? Because speak pertains to voice, and Gilbert's words — according to Madeleine— spawned from the devil. No? Okay…

"Yes?" Madeleine called.

"Can I come in?"

Madeleine sighed before making her way to the door. She twisted the knob, the door already half an inch open, when she realized something. She froze.

"Shit," she cursed.

"Something wrong?" Gilbert said, patiently waiting on the other side of the door.

It just so happens that Madeleine had conveniently forgotten to put her wig back on. And stupidly went to answer the door before realizing it. Madeleine swiftly shut the door, but not before Gilbert painfully sacrificed his foot to prevent the door from closing.

His voice was strained as he spoke. "What's up, Madeleine?" He sounded concerned, but mostly pained.

Madeleine cursed once more and hid behind the secluded part of the doorway where she wouldn't be seen. "I was changing. Now please kindly remove your most likely fractured foot from the doorway so I can finish."

Something was up. "Not from the looks of it, miss sailor. And why would you open the door if you were changing?" He began to push on the door.

Madeleine paled, desperately trying to find a way to take that damn foot out of the door. She decided to change the subject. "Miss sailor?" she questioned, disdain spilling from her voice. "What's that supposed to mean?" Let's just say that Gilbert isn't the best nickname giver in the world.

Gilbert pushed on the door with more force. If she really was changing, then she wouldn't try to change the subject. Something was definitely up. "The sailor part is because you cuss like one. The miss part is because you're a girl." He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Madeleine pushed back with nearly the same amount of force, punting Gilbert's foot out of the way with her own foot in the process. _If he only knew the irony in his words..._ He would soon find out if she didn't do anything about it.

Gilbert yelped at his poor foot, sure that something in there had cracked. Okay, now he was really suspicious. And he kind of wanted a bit of compensation for his broken foot.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt, I said I was changing. I swear if you do not let go of this door I will break your foot."

Gilbert grinned. Oh; this girl was just asking for it. "You already did, sweetie. Now would you come out and kiss it better?"

Madeleine swore she didn't blush. She swore that a grotesque blush didn't bloom across her face. Fed up, she finally found the strength to slam the door shut. Hey, don't go judging. She used to play hockey.

"Owie..." Gilbert whined. "Ma-de-leine! Quit being a tsundere."

A...what? Was that some kind of insult or something? "A what?"

"I dunno, I was talking to Kiku once and he said something about it. Like how Arthur was a soon day ray or something."

Or was it Lovino that Kiku was talking about?

"That's... Nice?" Madeleine commented, relieved that she had finally succeeded. She celebrated by plopping into a seat, exhausted. Gilbert was stronger than Madeleine gave credit.

Gilbert sighed. He was back to square one and he didn't even like squares. (Because circles were the shit nowadays. Ever seen hoop earrings?) "Aw, come on, miss sailor." _Some was definitely, undeniably, one hundred percent, up_. Gilbert's tone suddenly turned serious. "I know you're not changing. And you were about to open the door. What suddenly came up in a millisecond that you just had to close the door, Madeleine?"

No. No no no no _no._ Gilbert was _not_ supposed to be that smart. "I told you Gilbert, sometimes a girl forgets that she's changing_._" _Though, I wouldn't know_, Madeleine silently added_._

"And then they sometimes forget that kicking someone's foot too hard will break them,"Gilbert said sarcastically. "That's not it, Ma-de-leine. What are you hiding?"

Madeleine's brain felt like it was drowning in complete turmoil. "Stop calling me that..."

"And someone who's changing but forgets doesn't frantically try to close the door. I'm going to ask you one more time, _miss sailor_. What. The hell. Is up?"

"I told you, Gilbert."

"And you wouldn't try to avoid a subject twice just because you were changing."

"Twice? When was the second time?"

"Three times, Madeleine."

Madeleine was silent. Probably for quite a bit of time, because when Gilbert spoke again, he sounded worried.

"Madeleine—?"

"Some things," Madeleine interrupted, "are better left unsaid."

That was effective in causing Gilbert to pause. He took the time to think.

"Then what about the other things, Madeleine? They have to be let out."

"This isn't about the other things, Gilbert." Her voice was hoarse as she spoke, yet it managed to tangle disparity within it.

The moment Madeleine had shut the door and sat down, Gilbert realized that she hadn't locked the door. He was going to open it as soon as Madeleine had admitted to something.

But the tone of her voice stopped him.

"Then I hope you realize that some things that are left unsaid destroy people from the inside out."

The doorknob was left untouched.

* * *

**He'll think of Birdie eventually. OHSHIT*SPOILERALERT*- just kidding. You all knew that that was going to happen.**


End file.
